Roak's War: A Roak: Galactic Bounty Hunter Novel

by Jake Bible

  "Yes! Take out!" Yellow Eyes exclaimed.

  "I didn't say take out," Roak snapped. "I said take us… Never mind."

  "Which planet?" Nimm asked.

  "Do I look like I care?" Roak replied.

  "The one with Gorborian shark soup," Yellow Eyes whispered sotto voce.

  "Eight Million Gods dammit…" Roak muttered.

  2.

  The planets in the Javitz System were truly set up for drive-thru service. None had public docking bays or landing pads or hangars of any kind. All ground spaces were reserved for employees only.

  "Attention Borgon Eight-Three-Eight!" a voice boomed over the comm. "You do not have an employee landing permit signature connected with your ship! You are not allowed to land-! HEY! You can't land here!"

  "Yet, we are," Roak replied. "Hessa? Occupy this guy."

  "Not a guy," Hessa said. "It's an AI."

  "Then you two should get along great," Roak said. "Keep it busy."

  "I already am," Hessa responded, her voice very businesslike. "I have overloaded the system with permit requests that will take several days to sort through."

  "Good," Roak said. "Nimm? Make sure no one touches the ship."

  "What an incredible idea, Roak," Nimm replied. "Good luck hunting for hunters. I'll just be here. In the ship. On the bridge. In this seat. Waiting for you to run back for a quick escape. Like always."

  "Does everyone have to be up my ass today?" Roak snapped.

  Yellow Eyes raised a nub.

  "I'd like to state for the record that no part of me is up your ass, man," Yellow Eyes said.

  Roak shook his head then focused on Reck. "You coming with?"

  "Gonna sit this one out," Reck said. "Bounty hunters are your people, not mine."

  "What does that even mean?" Roak asked. "You know what? I don't care. I'll do this on my own. It'll be like the way I used to work. On. My. Own."

  "I'll go!" Yellow Eyes said and was gone in a blur before Roak could object.

  "Have fun with that," Reck said. "I'll be with Poq working on the ship."

  Roak didn't respond. He made his way off the bridge and down to the cargo hold where Yellow Eyes stood waiting at the open ramp.

  "Okay, quick question," Yellow Eyes said as Roak passed him and walked down the cargo hold ramp.

  "I highly doubt that," Roak said.

  "That I have a question?"

  "That it'll be quick."

  "Funny."

  "Wasn't trying to be."

  "No, really, man," Yellow Eyes said as he followed closely behind Roak.

  The two of them walked away from the ship and headed towards an employee tram system.

  "What?" Roak snapped when they reached the tram system gate. The gate refused to open. "Hold on."

  Roak, now armed with his Flott, pulled the large pistol from its holster and took aim at the tram gate's interface.

  "Stop," Hessa snapped in his ear. "We do not have to destroy everything to get what we want, Roak."

  "I'm sure there's a metaphor in there somewhere," Roak said and holstered his pistol as he waited.

  The gate beeped and the interface turned red.

  "Huh," Hessa said.

  "What's going on?" Yellow Eyes asked. "I hate not having a comm sometimes."

  "Implants melt your brain," Roak said. He paused. "Maybe we should look into trying again…"

  "Ha ha freaking ha," Yellow Eyes said.

  The interface beeped and turned red once more.

  "This is not good," Hessa muttered.

  "While we wait," Yellow Eyes said, "can I ask my question?"

  "Can I stop you?" Roak replied.

  "I don't know, man," Yellow Eyes said. "Maybe you could if you really fought hard. I mean, I'm fast and all, man, but you do have a unique ability to mess beings up when-"

  "Ask the Eight Million Gods damn question," Roak snarled.

  "Sheez Louise, man," Yellow Eyes said. "Why are we even trying to get new allies when we don't know if they've been corrupted by Father or not? Like, doesn't he have control over all beings with GF and/or Skrang implants? And now doesn't he have control over the flesh of all these beings and doesn't need the implant control once he's got his hooks in? And even if Hessa switches out the implants for her special ones, aren't the bodies of these beings still under Father's control?"

  "That's more than one question," Roak said as the gate interface went red a third time. Then a fourth. Then a fifth. Hessa was actively swearing in Roak's ear.

  "Oh, I didn't even ask the question yet," Yellow Eyes said. "The question is: how can we trust anyone anymore outside our circle?"

  "We can't," Roak said. "But we have to try or we'll never survive this."

  "Because we need an army?"

  "Because we need an army."

  "Against…what, exactly?"

  "Father."

  "But Father is in another universe. Are we taking the army there?"

  "Stop talking."

  "I just was won-"

  "Stop! Talking!"

  "Cool. Sorry. I'll stop talking, man…"

  "What in all the Hells?" Hessa roared, making Roak wince and rub at his ear.

  "Father has been here," Roak said. He pulled his Flott and blasted the interface. The tram gate clicked unlocked, but didn't slide open. Roak manually shoved the gate open and looked at Yellow Eyes. "Have a look around."

  "I have access to all of the vid feeds on this planet, Roak," Hessa said. "You don't have to have Yellow Eyes do a recon run."

  "If Father has been here then all the vid feeds could be corrupted and controlled," Roak said. "We can't trust tech."

  Roak snorted at the irony.

  "I know what that snort was about," Hessa said then sighed. "We do need to talk sooner than later, Roak."

  "Do you have your memory back?" Roak asked. "From before you slipped into this universe?"

  "No," Hessa said.

  "Then not a lot to talk about," Roak said.

  "But we do have Bishop's files," Hessa said. "They have a good deal of information in them."

  "Again, and I don't know why no one is getting this," Roak said, "we can't trust tech. That includes files held in a quantum drive by a being that was controlled by Father. Files that were hacked by a dark tech that used to be in a body that was a million years old and now looks younger than me. Maybe, and I'm taking a wild guess here, we especially don't trust those files."

  Yellow Eyes returned in a blur.

  "No one, man," Yellow Eyes said. "No one on any of the tram platforms. No one walking to or from the buildings." Yellow Eyes lifted his head and sniffed loudly. "No food, man. I didn't notice it before, but I do now. None of these take-out towers are operational."

  "Hessa?" Roak called.

  "Nimm and I are working on scanning the planet now," Hessa said. "We're ignoring the initial readings and going deep under."

  "Good," Roak said.

  "What's the call?" Yellow Eyes asked. "Are we just going to wait here?"

  "No," Roak said and walked through the gate and over to a waiting tram.

  A very empty, waiting tram.

  Not surprisingly, the tram doors didn't slide open.

  "Oh, right, none of the trams are working," Yellow Eyes said. "The doors won't open and they are all parked at platforms. No being-moving happening today."

  "Hessa?" Roak called again.

  "Our first readings were illusions," Nimm replied instead of Hessa. "Hessa is studying them closely. But it looks like a protocol was set in place in order to fool anyone that approaches any of the Javitz planets into thinking it's business as usual."

  "Honey trap," Roak said.

  "Exactly," Nimm agreed.

  "Have you found any bodies yet?" Roak asked. "Any signs of life?"

  "What about that angry parking guy?" Yellow Eyes asked. "I assume you're asking where the beings are, right? Maybe we find that guy and ask him."

  "It's an AI," Roak said to Yellow Eyes.

 
"AIs know shit too," Yellow Eyes replied.

  "You hear that?" Roak asked Nimm.

  "Hear what?" Nimm replied.

  Roak relayed Yellow Eyes' statement.

  "Simpleton AI," Nimm said. "We tried talking to him and it was obvious after a few seconds of conversation. Basic protocols only. Its programming is ninety percent personality."

  "What'd Nimm say?" Yellow Eyes asked.

  Roak relayed that part of the conversation. He wasn't thrilled with the relaying.

  "Ninety percent personality?" Yellow Eyes laughed. "That's like the opposite of you, man."

  "So? Beings?" Roak asked, ignoring Yellow Eyes' comment.

  "Here," Hessa said.

  The holo interface on the left arm of Roak's armor came to life, displaying a 3D model of the planet. It zoomed in and locked onto a single tower. The building was bright red with life signs, filled almost to capacity.

  "Oh, I saw that tower," Yellow Eyes said. "It's about five clicks that way."

  He pointed with a few of his nubs.

  Roak growled, cut off the holo from his interface, then left the tram platform and made his way out to the service road that lay between the many empty towers.

  "There is zero movement," Hessa said. "They're all just waiting there."

  "Of course they are," Roak said.

  "Roak? Where are you going?" Hessa asked.

  "Man, where are you going?" Yellow Eyes asked.

  "We should leave, Roak," Hessa said. "It is a trap."

  "Obviously," Roak replied.

  "Obviously what?" Yellow Eyes asked.

  "It's a trap," Roak said.

  "Well, duh, man," Yellow Eyes responded. "Hessa is telling us to leave, right? But we aren't leaving, are we?"

  "Let's see what the trap is all about," Roak said.

  "This throw caution to the wind attitude is exciting in holo vids, but in real life not so much," Yellow Eyes said. "We should do what Hessa says and leave."

  "How many total beings are in that tower?" Roak asked.

  "About eight thousand," Hessa said. "I am finding other towers across the planet with the same amount of beings. All waiting."

  "He didn't know where we'd land so he set up greeting parties everywhere," Roak said. "Let's join the party."

  "Yeah, that was lame," Yellow Eyes said. "Leave the wit to me, man."

  Roak pulled his pistol.

  "Hold on!" Yellow Eyes said. "No need to get shooty!"

  "It's not for you," Roak said.

  "Oh, right," Yellow Eyes said. "Sorry. I had a panic moment. You know, because of your unstable personality. All ten percent of it."

  "It could be for you," Roak said, brandishing the pistol.

  "Shutting up," Yellow Eyes responded and did his lock the lips move.

  "I highly doubt that," Roak said.

  The two beings walked the service road for about three clicks before Roak came to a sudden stop. Yellow Eyes began to speak, but Roak slapped a gloved hand over the being's mouth. Yellow Eyes nodded. Roak removed the hand. Yellow Eyes looked about then shrugged.

  Roak pointed to a swift ship set down on a side road just a few meters ahead. The vehicle was barely bigger than a large roller with short wings and a small engine. All of that was deceptive. Roak knew that ship and knew it could move. Fast.

  Yellow Eyes was gone and back before Roak stopped pointing.

  Roak raised an eyebrow. Yellow Eyes shook his head. Roak twirled his finger in the air to indicate the area. Yellow Eyes shook his head. Roak studied their surroundings, narrowed his eyes, then kept walking.

  "Stop!" Hessa cried.

  Roak stopped. He grabbed Yellow Eyes by the arm.

  "Wha-?"

  Roak put a gloved finger to his lips and Yellow Eyes clamped his mouth shut.

  "Beings are showing up in the other towers," Hessa said. "They weren't there before."

  Roak stayed quiet and waited.

  "Father has figured out how to cloak his numbers," Hessa said, sounding like she was talking more to herself than Roak. "I don't know if he has them individually cloaked or en masse."

  Roak still waited.

  "The beings are leaving the other towers, Roak," Hessa said. "They are all walking towards tram stations."

  "We're going to have company," Roak said to Yellow Eyes.

  "Fun company? The kind that bring gifts?" Yellow Eyes asked.

  "If death and violence are gifts then yes," Raok said.

  "Death and violence are not gifts," Yellow Eyes muttered to himself.

  "The beings in the tower you are approaching are staying put, Roak," Hessa said. "They're waiting for you."

  "I figured they would," Roak said. "Father has something showy planned."

  "Well, at least we get a show out of all this," Yellow Eyes said. He looked about forlornly. "Wish we could get dinner with the show. That Gorborian shark soup sounded so good."

  They walked on for a couple more clicks before they arrived at their destination.

  The tower they stood in front of was lit up to its full capabilities. Every single sign the tower had was flashing brightly.

  "Pancakes?" Yellow Eyes asked. "That's all this place serves is pancakes? Come on…"

  "Eighty thousand different types of pancakes," Roak said. "That's ten types per being inside there."

  "I applaud the variety, but I'm just not in a pancake mood," Yellow Eyes said. "Maybe we could go for burgers?"

  Roak turned and glared. Yellow Eyes nodded.

  "Right. Not here to eat," Yellow Eyes said. "So…what are we here to do?"

  "Watch and learn," Roak said.

  "Right," Yellow Eyes said.

  Roak stood there, his pistol still drawn, and stared at the tower.

  "Oh, you actually mean we are going to stand here and watch this tower then see if we learn something," Yellow Eyes said with a chuckle. "I thought you were going to do-"

  Roak lifted the Flott and opened fire on the tower.

  "Shit!" Yellow Eyes exclaimed as he jumped about five feet into the air, did a weird wiggle spin, then landed in a heap on the road. "Warn a guy next time!"

  Even with the Flott's capabilities, none of the plasma blasts Roak let loose on the tower penetrated the building's defenses. Bright blue flashes lit up everywhere the plasma impacted.

  "That's not standard," Hessa said. "Can you walk in? Wait, what am I saying? Do not walk in there, Roak. Better yet, if you feel the need to walk anywhere, walk back to the ship."

  "Nope," Roak said.

  He walked up to the tower's entrance and waited for the doors to slide apart. After a brief wait, they did and Roak sauntered right inside.

  "Roak!" Hessa yelled. "You need to turn around and-!"

  Hessa's voice cut off as soon as Roak was about two meters over the threshold and inside the tower.

  "Hessa?" Roak called. Nothing.

  "What's up?" Yellow Eyes whispered, his yellow eyes flitting back and forth. "What's wrong with Hessa?"

  "Hold on," Roak said.

  He walked back outside.

  "-I cannot believe you would even-"

  Roak nodded and went back inside. Hessa's voice cut off immediately.

  "He's figured out how to shield Hessa from me," Roak said. "This is part of what he wanted to show me."

  "Part?" Yellow Eyes asked. "Why only part? That seems like a lot right there, man."

  The lift doors at the far side of the lobby opened wide.

  Roak walked causally over to the lift, checked inside, saw it was empty, and stepped in. Yellow Eyes blurred up next to him.

  "Yeah, really, really, really not liking the throw caution to the wind side of Roak," he said as the doors slid closed and the lift began to move. "We are so going to die."

  "Maybe," Roak said. "But I've been dying every night for the last two weeks. It gets old after a while."

  "Old? No, it doesn't get old, man! Those are just dreams!" Yellow Eyes exclaimed.

  "Hello," a voice called from a
speaker in the ceiling of the lift. "What style of pancakes are you looking for today?"

  Yellow Eyes jumped then relaxed. "Huh. You know, maybe pancakes do sound good. Do you have Transeeen fruit?"

  "We do not," the voice replied. "But we do have a slow and painful death waiting for you. And whipped cream."

  "Oh," Yellow Eyes said and gulped. "At least there will be whipped cream. I do like whipped cream…"

  Roak held his pistol down at his side and stared at the lift doors.

  "No hello, Roak?" the voice asked.

  Roak held his pistol down at his side and stared at the lift doors.

  "Come now, son," the voice continued, "say hello to your-"

  Roak flipped the Flott's muzzle up and fired. The speaker disintegrated.

  "Not your son," Roak said.

  The lift stopped and opened onto a nightmare.

  Yellow Eyes screeched then puked.

  3.

  No skin.

  That was what Roak noticed first as he stared out of the lift at the hundreds of beings that waited in the massive dining hall.

  The second thing he noticed was the smell.

  Blood, excrement, urine, and other smells singular to the many different species of skinless beings that stood staring back at Roak.

  "He took their skin," Yellow Eyes said. He gagged a few times, but didn't vomit again. "What the fuck, man?"

  "You can't kill them all," Father's voice echoed from the many speakers in the dining hall's ceiling, "not even with your Flott's laser cluster spread. So, Roak, how about you come inside, take a seat, and listen for a few minutes?"

  "That's why I'm here," Roak said.

  "It is?" Yellow Eyes asked. "But…bounty hunters?"

  "Oh, you strange, silly abomination," Father said. "Roak never expected to find any bounty hunters here. I have control of almost all known, and unknown, bounty hunters all across the galaxy. Roak knew I would target that demographic right away. I'm afraid, Yellow Eyes, you have been duped."

  "Duped?" Yellow Eyes replied and looked at Roak. "That true, man?"

  "Hessa wouldn't have let us come here if she knew why," Roak said.

  "But he's going to kill us!" Yellow Eyes exclaimed.

  "I have no intention of killing Roak today," Father said. "You, on the other hand, will be dead as soon as my conversation with Roak is over. You strange, silly abomi-"